


Soul of the Sea

by jotun_loki



Category: Actor RPF, Chris Hemsworth - Fandom, Thor (Movies) RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Selkies, Surfer!Chris, selkie!Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6555673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jotun_loki/pseuds/jotun_loki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes people were disappointed when he did not hold the characteristics his Adonis body claimed him to have. He was not aggressive enough, he was not over-powering enough. These assumptions had clung to Chris his whole life and he simply couldn’t bear it anymore. </p><p>Perhaps that’s why he had decided, completely on a whim, to purchase a near-abandoned house on the bay of a secluded beach he had only visited once in his late teens. It was devoid of people and their judgement; here, in this little house, Chris wouldn’t have to hear their sick, twisted thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul of the Sea

People always thought Chris was either too much, or simply not enough. Everyone always assumed he was an aggressive man, a violent man, a man which couldn’t be trusted to play fair. They theorised all these false deductions just by looking at his strong frame and bulking muscles. Nobody ever looked any deeper than the surface. Sometimes people were disappointed when he did not hold the characteristics his Adonis body claimed him to have. He was not aggressive _enough_ , he was not over-powering _enough._ These assumptions had clung to Chris his whole life and he simply couldn’t bear it anymore.

Perhaps that’s why he had decided, completely on a whim, to purchase a near-abandoned house on the bay of a secluded beach he had only visited once in his late teens. It was devoid of people and their judgement; here, in this little house, Chris wouldn’t have to hear their sick, twisted thoughts.

Chris shut off the ignition to his car and stared out across the vast expanse of the sea, the setting sun melting into the horizon as the warmth of the sky reflected itself over the ripples of the ocean, like flames dancing over the water’s surface. With very little possessions in the back of his car, Chris took out his one large suitcase, and unclasped his surfboard from the roof. All that was left were a few odds and ends. With a deep sigh, Chris truly accepted that an era had come to an end as he finally peeled off the premier surfboarding sticker stuck to the inside window of his boot, the edges already coming unstuck from the screen. Letting it fall to the floor, Chris hoped, when morning came, nature would have swept it away, out of sight and out of mind.

~

Maybe there was something slightly morbid about the beach house. But only if you brought into that kind of thing. Still completely furnished, the house hadn’t been touched in over a hundred years and was a steal of a price. Apparently the local council were selling the property because it had been left abandoned since the early 1900s. The day Chris had phoned up and asked to buy the beach house straight up with no viewing or valuation, his request had been met with great confusion and a lot of mumbling and stuttering.

A thick smog of clouds covered the midmorning sun, the damp floor reminding him both of rain that had been and gone, and the rainy days which were sure to come. The sleepy, grey village of Lantan was a far cry different than the sunny beaches he was used to.

As Chris loaded groceries into the back of his car outside of a quaint local shop, he could feel the sharp pinprick of stares burning into his back. Standing up abruptly, Chris slammed the door shut with considerable force. He didn’t mean to do it so dramatically but sometimes he forgot about his own strength.

“Is it you?” an old woman said from behind him, her frail figure clad in drab greys that hung from her wasted body like moth-eaten curtains.

Chris raised an eyebrow, not sure yet whether he had any intention of entertaining this conversation. Too many bad conversations had started with that line.

“The lad that moved into the old beach house? Estate agent said some crazed Australian had brought the place, either feeling very brave or very stupid. And you certainly look like an outsider.” She concluded, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Chris laughed. It was easier to play along with the antics of the old than put up any kind of fuss.

“That is indeed me.”

The old woman tutted. “Well I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Chris leant against the back of the car, his arms folded loosely across his chest. He shook his head. “I can’t say that I do. Tell me, what have I gone and gotten myself into?”

This time, it was the old woman that shook her head. “Just stay away from the water, you hear? There are souls in that sea.”

Dumbfounded, Chris watched the old woman hobble away and thought with quiet amusement that it would be very hard for a surfer to stay away from the ocean.

_Souls in the sea, what a load of rubbish._

~

As Chris washed away decades of dust and dirt - throwing open every murky window to let the fresh air in - he couldn’t help but marvel at the reality of a place like this existing, still perfectly intact. Really, it was an amazement it wasn’t grimier after a hundred years of neglect. Now that the afternoon had fully come, Chris realised just how dark the house was without proper lighting installed; he would need to get an electrician in, among many other trades, most likely.

Beating dust out of the carpets, rugs and curtains, Chris wondered whether it would make more sense to sell the furniture, as it had considerable age to it. Then again, Chris thought, maybe it would be nice to just keep it, guilt free. It wasn’t like he had paid more for the furniture to be included; the council couldn’t have been more eager to shift it. And it was pretty cool to have some antiques, even if they did once belong to a poor fisherman and not a lady of a manor house.

Chris quickly rethought his decision when he opened the kitchen cabinets to find it full of old cups and plates. The abandoned teacup on the counter was especially creepy.

 _Maybe now’s a good time to move to the bedroom_ , Chris decided quickly, scooping up the cleaning supplies and dumping them on the ancient mattress next to his sleeping bag that he had huddled in the night before.

Chris made a mental note to get a new mattress as soon as possible.

The room was sparse, with little more than a bed, wardrobe and nightstand covered in small personal items; candles, a brush, a razor. It all weirded Chris out immensely. He wasn’t gonna lie, he was disappointed in himself; he thought he’d be able to find the whole situation less odd. It wasn’t that he was upset or scared, it was just unsettling. Yes, merely unsettled, and slightly perturbed. But definitely not scared.

Chris flung open the wardrobe doors and paled visibly. He didn’t know why he was surprised really, what with everything else he had encountered. How had he _not_ expected to find a cupboard full of ancient clothes?

Pulling them out, Chris dumped them on the bed, then frowned. Some things looked like they had come straight out of a Dickens novel, yet some…some looked relatively modern. Maybe not modern _modern_ , but they definitely looked 50s, maybe 60s? Chris shook his head. _Freaky._

Throughout his day of cleaning and ordering, Chris found many more odd and peculiar things, such as books, piles and piles of them at that. Most of them were really old, yet some didn’t quite look old _enough_.

Chris sighed; more people had obviously been in the house than he’d been led to believe.

Grabbing his coat and phone, Chris left the house in search of food and mobile signal. The sooner he got the old tomb of a house fixed up, the better.

~

Chris had to drive two towns over to find any kind of mobile signal. Pulling up outside of a deserted internet café, Chris stared through his car windows at the flickering lights and the empty seats a moment before making the hesitant decision to go in. He had originally intended to just flick through the yellow pages until he found some builders to hire but he supposed he might as well consult google to find the best person to do the job.

Squished onto the small plastic chair, steaming coffee cup in front of him, Chris put his mobile phone down after calling the last tradesman. Hopefully all the work could be done by the end of next week. Ignoring the curious stares of the shop owner, Chris stared back down at his phone in hesitation. He really should have just left; there was no one else that needed calling. And yet, Chris couldn’t help but pick up his phone and open up the internet, typing in the name of the village.

Chris found nothing at first. But after a good half hour of digging, Chris stumbled upon a dated website full of stories from rural folklore.

_“Local legend has it that in 1889, in the small fishing village of Lantan, Scotland, a boat full of fishermen were lost at sea, neither their bodies, nor their ship, ever recovered. Although this in itself is not noteworthy for the time, the event was elevated to the status of folklore due to numerous accounts of figures being spotted on the beach shortly after the wreck, as well as alleged sightings of a man thought to be the ghost of one of the lost fisherman, spotted inside a derelict house just off the bay. There have been many…”_

Chris quickly shut off his phone. He didn’t need to read any more to know that he definitely wouldn’t be sleeping soundly that night.

~

The tradesmen were in his house for days, and Chris quickly found that the building wasn’t big enough for him to loiter inside without getting in the way. It was on a particularly long day of work, where the electrician had been forced to stay overtime to fix a problem, that Chris found himself slumped on the sand, his back pressed against a large rock. Slowly, but surely, Chris felt his eyes drooping shut as he gazed out across the ominous mass of the dark sea, the moon shining brightly overhead. If it wasn’t for this beach, then he might not have pursued his dream of surfing at all, even if he had had to give it up long before he was ready.

He had only visited Lantan once before in his late teens, in a time when all hoped seemed lost and his dream of making a career out of his hobby seemed more like wishful thinking, than a feasible reality. It was only really chance that his family even stopped by at Lantan on their visit to Scotland, deciding to stay the night so that they may have more time to figure out where they may like to stop off to next. It hadn’t taken long for him to find out that the forgotten bay was forbidden territory, and he found himself drawn there, out of curiosity and perhaps a small spark of rebellion. Standing on the water’s edge, he had watched the steady movements of the tide, praying quietly that his parents wouldn’t notice his sudden disappearance. Chris didn’t know why he decided to walk out into the ocean until the waves lashed at his midriff. Maybe it was because, as he looked out across the water, all his dreams had never felt so close, yet so far away.

 _‘Why?’_ he had asked the quiet bay in desperation. _‘Why would I feel so drawn to the sea if I can have no future there?’_

Maybe he went temporarily mad. Maybe in that moment he just needed to believe in some unexplainable force, or a mystical voice, but he could have sworn the water spoke to him.

 _‘You belong to the sea,’_ the ocean had murmured, _‘this is where you are meant to be.’_

Chris had turned around sharply, but all he saw was a small splash and ripples in the waves.

 _Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now._ Chris thought, stumbling up from the sand and making his way back to the house. _It was a long time ago._

~

Truth be told, Chris was having an emotional crisis of sorts. He didn’t want to accept it – he didn’t want to accept anything- but it was true. Kneeling on the floor, chin resting on the window ledge, Chris looked out across the beach. Maybe he had made a terrible mistake? Perhaps this beach wasn’t where he was meant to be; what if this road was not the route he should have been travelling?

Nothing bad had happened, per se, but he hadn’t had any kind of divine realisation either. Chris liked to think he didn’t believe in fate but he found he had a hard time getting on with his life without a sign that what he was doing was right. It was hard to progress in life without any kind of reassurance.

Was it possible that walking away from his career without a fight and moving into this sleepy little village was the worst mistake of his life? The reality of the matter was that Chris wasn’t really sure what he wanted out of life. All his life he had been searching for his place in the universe, and if this small, deserted beach house overlooking the ocean wasn’t a step towards some sort of spiritual harmony, then he wasn’t sure what would be.

Opening the front door, Chris stepped out onto the beach, hoping that the calming swish of the ocean would settle his racing mind and reassure him that his drastic move to Scotland wasn’t a self-destructive cry for help.

Before he knew it, the sinking sand beneath his feet had led him deep into the heart of the ocean, dark water splashing against his shoulder blades as he breathed raggedly into the lonely night sky. He was thankful for his isolation as he felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes and slowly run down his cheeks. Chris didn’t normally let himself cry, but there had always been something freeing about the ocean that let him feel more openly. Only in the sea could he cry without restraint, because he knew that the water was a vast place, and there, existing only as a tiny speck, what he felt didn’t matter, because the world was much greater than him.

As his tears rolled down his face and sank into the ocean beneath, Chris made no move to stop them as he drew in the salty air in great gulps.

“I just want to find something to help make my life make sense.” Chris whispered with shaking breaths, his voice so quiet only the water could hear his secrets.

In the near distance, he saw a black mass ripple through the water towards him. Chris narrowed his eyes as the head of a grey seal came into view, its eyes freakishly small. When the seal reached arm’s length, the creature ducked beneath the water. Chris was going to sigh in disappoint for not getting to look at the mammal for a little bit longer, but his action of regret was cut off when the creature re-emerged, no longer a seal, but instead a beautiful man, with eyes the colour of the horizon as the stormy sky melted into the tumultuous sea.

“It’s been some time.” The man murmured, his voice rich and clear as he ran his hands curiously over his shoulder blades, the movement brief, but shocking nonetheless. Chris looked down at his body as it disappeared beneath the water and saw a slither of skins poking out from above the water’s edge.

He drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes.

_This can’t be real._

When he peaked his eyes open again, the seal man was gone, and Chris was left once again freezing and alone in the ocean.

~

Chris tried his best to forget what had happened that night in the ocean. He threw himself into shopping and cleaning, decorating, and organising, _anything_ to distract himself from what he saw. _It can’t have been real,_ he told himself every time he found his mind wandering. _You’re the one who asked for a sign. Accept your sign and move on._

But he couldn’t move on, and apparently the sea wouldn’t allow him to move on either.

Groceries in hand, Chris moved through the house to go and dump them in the kitchen. He didn’t actually need anything. Not enough to make a whole trip of it anyway; he just wanted some excuse to leave the house. Ever since that night he had stayed clear of the water, but he found that isolating himself from the sea, when combined with ignoring what had happened, made him feel twitchy and unsettled, like he was boarding on the edge of an uncontrollable hysteria.

But he knew he would have been able to move past the whole ‘seal-man’ incident _eventually._

He would have been able to put it behind him if he hadn’t of walked into the living room to find the seal-man himself curled up on the sofa with a book open in his lap.

“You’re back!” the man said with a cheery smile, ignoring his book completely as soon as he caught sight of Chris entering the room.

Chris said nothing. What could he say? A man which had come out of a seal was literally sitting in his armchair. In fact, the skin of the same very seal that the man had birthed himself from was now wrapped around his waist.

The seal-man must have noticed his intense stare towards the skin for he smiled widely again and set his book aside.

“You hid away all my clothes; what else was I to do?”

Chris shook his head. “It’s you.” He said dumbly.

The man giggled. “Of course it’s me!”

His words felt clunky and awkward, but he plowed through. “What are you doing here?”

The disbelief twisting his features no doubt made him look manic.

“I’ve come home.” He said standing up, holding the skin around his waist as he walked up to Chris slowly. He was tall. Nearly as tall as Chris. He wasn’t sure why he found that so surprising; perhaps he had anticipated the man being short seeing as he had _literally come out of a seal._

“I know this all must be very strange for you, but this is the first time I’ve seen a human in God knows how long. It’s also the closest I’ve been to a human since-” the man frowned momentarily in thought. “since my death I believe.”

Chris raised his eyebrows in confusion.

“That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

“I’m here because you summoned me here, silly. You cried seven tears into the sea and I came to you at once.”

_“Okay?”_

The man looked at him expectantly for a moment before furrowing his brow.

“You do know what I am?”

Chris shrugged.

“I’m a selkie.” He said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “And I’ve come to make your life better.”

Chris shook his head quickly. “But I don’t need anyone to make my life better.”

The selkie hummed. “Maybe you don’t need someone to improve your life, as such, but you do need someone to prove to you that where you are now was meant to be…Now, where did you hide my clothes?”

~

The selkie was called Tom and all he ate was fish.

 It was really kinda gross.

Every morning he would walk out onto the shore and put on his selkie skin, wiggling on his belly into the sea until he was completely covered by the cool water, returning to the beach only to dump dead fish onto the sand. Letting the skin fall from his body, he would sit nude upon the sand, and pull the fish apart with his bare hands, eating them raw. Resting at an angle so that his back was neither facing the beach, nor the house, he would gaze between the two calmly as he ate, waving occasionally to Chris who peaked though the window, or stood outside of the door, watching in curious horror. Chris wasn’t sure why Tom shifted to eat; maybe he thought it made him seem more sociable, and somehow less hostile. Not that Chris saw Tom as hostile; after all, he weighted at least twice as much as the leaner man, and he would have no trouble overpowering him if he needed to. But Tom seemed a gentle creature, despite inviting himself to stay in the house without Chris’ consent. Then again, Chris wondered, after the third day of Tom’s seemingly endless visit, maybe the selkie didn’t see his presence as invading Chris’ home and privacy? As far as Tom was concerned, this was still his house and Chris was the invader, not him.

The entire situation was very odd. It was hard to the deny that Chris felt drawn to the strange and beautiful man. But it was so complicated, any attraction Chris might have felt was buried under many layers of confusion. The selkie had forced Chris to question everything he thought he knew about the world. And as beautiful as the creature may have been, he was also a part time seal, and he like to eat fish with his bare hands, which was pretty freaky and disgusting. Truth be told, Chris had barely said a word to the selkie, still at a complete loss for what to say. The man had even pushed him out of his own room. The first night he had just decided to curl up in his bed, and was very reluctant to move.

 _‘Do you plan on staying there all night?_ ’ Chris had asked, later that evening, as he hovered awkwardly in the doorway. Tom had squeaked an eye open and murmured lazily into the pillow that he was very welcome to join him if he liked. Chris huffed and slept on the incredibly uncomfortable chair in the main room, where he had stayed ever since.

~

Tom was a very curious creature. This Chris learnt quickly. When he thought Chris wasn’t looking, he would bend down and press his face against every mysterious object he found within the house. That morning it was the coffee maker he was enamored with. Observing him quietly from the doorway, Chris watched as Tom ran his nose along the glossy plastic of the machine, darting his tongue out quickly to lick at the mystical device.

Chris wasn’t sure why he chose to speak to Tom that morning; maybe it was because four days was a ridiculous amount of time to have a stranger in his house, and not only was his guest uninvited, he was also a human seal who was quite literally _licking_ his coffee maker. Chris had his limits and trying to eat the kitchen appliances was one of them.

“If you want some coffee all you have to do is ask, mate.”

Tom pulled away from the machine quickly, a dark blush colouring his cheeks.

“I just wanted to inspect it more closely.”

“With your tongue?” Chris laughed, striding into the kitchen to flick on the switch for the coffee maker.

The selkie shuffled awkwardly.

“Well I have spent the majority of my existence as a seal. As they say, old habits die hard.”

Placing a pod in the machine, Chris huffed in amusement, letting Tom slip out of the room.

~

Chris had foolishly presumed that Tom had left the house. That afternoon found both the kitchen and the living room empty and – desperate for a nap on something that wasn’t filled with horse hair - Chris had decided to attempt to reclaim the bedroom in the vain hope that it would be absent of mysterious seal-men. It seemed like a solid plan as Tom didn’t appear to have much of an interest of being in there for anything other than sleep.

Chris was wrong. Tom did have interests other than sleep.

Face buried in an old box, it appeared Tom had finally decided to investigate underneath the bed.

Chris sighed. “Tom, what the hell?”

Ducking his head up quickly, Tom perched on the balls of his feet, his eyebrows pinching in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Chris crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance as the selkie giggled. If the seal-man weren’t so freakishly attractive, Chris would’ve kick him out of the house right that instant.

“I must confess I don’t know much about _surfing_ ,” Tom began, holding up a trophy in one hand and a newspaper in the other. “but you must have been very passionate about it and really rather good to win all these awards.”

Chris shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

Tom shook his head, putting the trophy carefully back in its box as he stood, the newspaper still firmly grasped in his hand. “How could it not matter? It obviously meant a lot to you-”

Chris slumped on the edge of the bed and sighed, staring down at his hands. “I take it you’ve already read the article?”

Tom hummed. “I did and I don’t believe a word of it. I’m certain you are not a violent man, Christopher. If you were, you would have killed me the moment you found out what I was. But you didn’t.”

Chris exhaled in exasperation. “Look Tom, no offense, but you haven’t been part of society in over a hundred years. But I’m sure things weren’t that much different in your time - if everyone thinks I’m violent and that I did something wrong, then it doesn’t matter what the truth is, because my reputation is ruined either way.”

Tom shook his head sharply, his curls bouncing from the movement. “Why would you purposefully ride into someone? It would be a meaningless act of aggression, and if you’re a successful surfer, you have no need to prove yourself.”

Chris really didn’t want to think about this anymore. He had spent months chewing over every detail in his brain, trying to decide whether enough was enough. He came to Lantan to get away from it all, he didn’t need-

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Tom murmured, bowing his head in shame. “I just find the fact that you were unjustly treated disappointing. If you need a career in surfing, then there is very little I can do to help you.”

Chris shifted, unsettled by how much Tom cared. People didn’t normally care. They were happy to believe whatever rumour they heard, and think the worst of him, all based on petty gossip.

“There’s no need to be sad, mate; it’s not your problem. And anyway, I have no intention of going back to that career. People had been making shit up since the moment I started, so I just chose to retire after that final incident, even if I did have to leave in disgrace.”

Tom stood up slowly and tore the article cleanly in half. “There’s no disgrace by the sea, Christopher. Your bad experiences can’t follow you here.”

Chris dearly hoped that Tom was right, but he wasn’t fully convinced.

~

The axe cut through the sky, slamming into the surfboard with brute force, the wood splintering and breaking in half. It was a cold night, but a loose sheen of sweat still clung to Chris’ skin regardless as he brought the axe down again and again until all that was left of his favourite board where remnants to burn as firewood. The life he had led before was over now and Chris saw no point in dwelling on it. The board only brought back bad memories. Picking up a small handful of pieces, Chris staggered over to the small fire he had lit on the beach. The flames consumed the wood quickly as Chris watched the scraps char black from the heat. Chris sighed and added the rest to the fire. Slumped on the sandy floor, he took long sips of his beer as the fire burnt brightly like a beacon. By his side sat the box containing every reminder of his former life. Most of it probably wouldn’t burn so he’d have to find another way of destroying it all. Really, he wasn’t sure why he even brought these things with him. Although he had been proud of his achievements at the time, now all they gave him was bitter regret, burning him like the fire that destroyed his board.

Chris heard the soft patter of Tom feet before he heard his voice.

“Darling.” He sounded disappointed and Chris found himself strangely upset by that notion.

“You’re not burning your boards, are you?”

Chris shook his head as he saw Tom’s bare feet enter his peripheral vision.

“It’s my surfboard, I can do what I like with it.” Chris said, staring into the flames. Long arms wrapped around his shoulders as Tom knelt beside him, resting his head against him.

“Why would you do such a foolish thing, love?”

“Because it’s not important anymore.”

Tom pulled away and Chris immediately missed the warmth of his body. Long fingers gripped his chin and pulled his head away from the fire; Tom’s brows knitted together in worry.

“Christopher, just because there are bad memories attached to something, that doesn’t mean you should forget about it completely. And it definitely doesn’t mean you should no longer love surfing.” Tom pressed his cool, open palm to Chris’ heart. “This connection to the sea is a part of you; don’t push it away.”

Tom always seemed to look at him with such intensity, like nothing else in the world really mattered apart from him. That level of observation was unnerving to Chris and he found that he could only keep eye contact for a few moments before he enviably had to draw his gaze away.

“Maybe you’re right.” Chris said vaguely, looking out into the sea. Tom’s hand cupped the side of his face, before he got up to walk away.

“You know it makes sense.”

By the shore, Tom knelt in the sand in nothing but his skin, flipping up the skin of the seal’s head like a hood. His transformation was quick and seamless; Chris could see no transition between man and seal. He just suddenly was. Chris watched on in silence as Tom bobbed through the sea in search of food.

The fire was starting to burn out now. Picking up his box of belongings, Chris kicked beer bottles aside, as he made his way back to the front door.

Voices carried on the wind, coming from somewhere nearby. Chris dropped the box to see who they were, but the noise must have spooked them for all he saw were dark figures darting away.

Chris clenched his jaw and stormed back into the house, praying for their sake as much as his, that he never heard people near his property again.

~

Chris thought he would be safe and alone in this small Scottish village, but perhaps he was wrong. As one day turned into two, and then three, Chris saw more and more people loitering in the distance outside his house. Sometimes he only saw them illuminated by the light of the moon, most of the time they would dash away in fright if they thought they were about to get caught, but some – some were becoming quite bold. Even when they saw Chris, they would continue to point and murmur. He tried to tell himself that they weren’t after him, that it was just the mystery of the beach that had them curious, but he was finding that increasingly hard to believe.

That morning found his bedroom empty and his wallet gone. Chris wasn’t sure whether Tom was gone for good or just gone for a while. He hoped it was the latter. Chris liked to think he found Tom’s presences annoying and intrusive, but the fact of the matter was that this was the most comfortable he had left with another person in a long while. The increasing sightings of outsiders seemed to have Tom spooked as well. He used to spend a good couple of hours scouring the sea for fish or hauling on the sand; now he only went out when he was sure no one was there. Sometimes is was very early morning, others it was late at night. He would never spend more than half an hour out at sea.

Chris was worried. He didn’t want to be, but he was. Maybe Tom had found a better home? Maybe he knew that Chris would eventually bring too much drama to the beach, and that the bay would no longer be a secluded paradise?

Standing in the center of his stolen bedroom, Chris let out a deep breath. Hanging over the end of the bed was Tom’s skin. He would never leave without his skin. He _couldn’t_ leave without it. It was as much a part of him as the flesh on his body.

It was midafternoon when Chris grabbed his coat, telling himself that he was just going to get some groceries. And if he happened to take a walk and find Tom, then that wouldn’t be because he was looking, it was just because he happened to-

The door knocked loudly and Chris’s heart froze.

Maybe he wouldn’t need to search for Tom after all.

Swinging the door open, Chris expected to be met by Tom’s sheepish smile and stormy blue eyes.

He was not.

Before him stood a small, freckly man in a beanie, holding out a small scrap of plastic proudly.

  “Hey! Wow, um…hi! Sorry to bother you but” Chris narrowed his eyes and repressed a groan. “Sorry I can’t believe it’s you, I’d seen you around in the village and I couldn’t believe it was really you but then I found this and” he held up the tattered premier surfing sticker Chris had pulled off his car nearly two weeks ago.

Chris shook his head angrily. “I think you should go now, mate. You got me mistaken for someone else.”

“Man, there’s no way anyone could mistake you for anyone but yourself! You’re a surfing legend!”

Grasping him roughly by the shoulder, Chris stared him down. “I won’t ask you again. You need to get off my property now.”

The fan shook his head defiantly. “No one owns the beach. Look, all I want is an autograph-”

With a loud bang, the man fell to the floor in shock.

Behind him stood a surfboard, clutched by the unmistakable hands of Tom.

“Jesus.” The man muttered from the floor, looking up in horror.

“I suggest you leave darling, unless you’d like another smack.” Spoke the disembodied voice behind the board.

The man scrambled away quickly.

“Surprise darling!” Tom laughed, his cheeks pink from either surprise or amusement as he propped the new board against the outside wall of his house. “I know it’s not a nice as your old one, and it’s a bit scratched up here and there, but-”

Grabbing Tom’s hand, Chris pulled him forwards into a tight hug, their lips meeting in a soft and gentle kiss. “It’s perfect.” Chris murmured into Tom’s neck. And when Chris finally pulled away, Tom blushed deeply, his eyes fluttering open to meet Chris’s warm gaze, as the sun illuminated his curls like a halo.

~

Later that night, Chris looked out across the vast ocean, watching as Tom shifted into a seal to explore the sea. Truth be told, he still found it hard to believe seal-people existed. Tom had told him about the night his fishing boat had been capsized. Most of the men had died, but those that didn’t, chose to give their souls to the sea as they couldn’t bear to live when the rest of their crew were dead. Chris didn’t want to admit it, but he was thankful that Tom had become the creature he was, otherwise Chris never would have gotten the opportunity to meet another person who truly lived and breathed the ocean. Standing by the open window, cold air gusted through and hit his face, making his skin break out in goosebumps. Chris didn’t mind it, he liked to feel the salty air caress his skin and fill his nostrils.

In a state of bliss, Chris’s tired eyes traced the rise and fall of the waves. He completely forgot about intruders. And when the voices returned and dark figures walked out onto the beach, Chris’s heart froze.

In a row, the trespassers stood, their gossiping whispers turning to screams as a wild man emerged from fur and water, promising them the curse of the sea if they entered his beach again. Shrieking, they flocked away, and Chris suspected it would be some time before they were bothered again.

~

Chris wasn’t sure when it became him and Tom, and not just _him_.

The pale sky of the afternoon became dark with time as they ate dinner in silence, backs resting against the front wall of the house, eyes tracing the tempestuous waves of the sea. It had been just over two weeks since Tom had emerged from the ocean; no more people came to bother him, no toxic thoughts of doubt invaded his mind. Tom was right; the sea was where he belonged. Here on this secluded, cold beach, he could have the freedom and the peace he needed. He had loved the warmth, but the heat only seemed to bring hot-headed people and cruel words. And although the freezing temperatures were not natural to him, he found just Tom’s mere presence in his life warmed him up.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” Chris said, shoveling up his last mouthful of potato, savoring the taste in his mouth. Ever since the day of their kiss, Tom had stuck around for dinner, eating everything in small, hesitant bites. Foolishly perhaps, Chris had assumed that Tom could only eat fish, or that his seal preferences had become unchangeably dominant after years of living as a mammal. This was not the case however. With a shy smile, Tom had told him that it had just become easier to continue with his fish-based diet, and that he had quickly forgotten about the joys of cooked food. Apparently, the meals of a late 19th century fisherman weren’t great, so Chris could understand his initial reluctance to return to people food.

“Unsurprisingly, ready meals didn’t exist in the 1800s, so I was forced to pick up some of the basics. Although, I must confess my cooking repertoire is limited.”

Chris shook his head. “Nothing you do could ever be limited.” He turned his head slightly to see a blush creeping up Tom’s neck. He meant what he said. Tom was incredible. Despite his humble beginnings, Tom collected words and knowledge like priceless artifacts, keeping everything he learnt locked way tightly in his mind. Lying on their backs in the sand - some days in the cloudy afternoon, others in the dead of night – they would clasp hands and look up at the vast void above them. Like whispered prayers, Tom would press butterfly kisses to his neck and shoulders, each touch of his lips a promise of safety and happiness. And after he was done showering Chris with love, he would rest his head above his steady, beating heart, and murmur Shakespearean sonnets of affection into his skin. When they were done lying wrapped up in the sand, they would curl up in bed, and Chris would fall asleep to the sound of Tom muttering quiet soliloquys of faith, speaking aloud every confidence he had that Chris would find joy in this lifetime.

He had known him for so little time, and yet Chris couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go. This unescapable draw of love was new to Chris, and something told him it wouldn’t come again.

Sliding up quietly, Tom strolled out onto the beach to dance beneath the stars, the white light of the moon illuminating his skin, as he skipped and twirled, pausing only briefly to wave Chris over.

Honestly, the impact Tom had had on his life was ridiculous. Tom was like some kind of fairy godmother, or a guardian angel; the only thing that disqualified him was the fact that he was neither a fairy, godmother, or angel. But those were just minor technicalities to Chris. Tom may have been, in reality, just a strange man that can come out of a seal - but he was _wonderful._

Slipping his arms around his back, Chris joined Tom in his dance, spinning him around to brush their noses together coyly. Tom giggled and he used his momentary distraction to place kisses beneath his ear.

“I love you.” Chris hushed into Tom’s ear, his own sudden announcement surprising him. But how could he not love Tom? It was impossible. “I know we don’t really know each other, but I know that us together feels right. You were right about the sea being my home, and how I’d find happiness here and all that. But to me, you are the sea, and I know if I’m with you, then I’ll always be at home.”

Resting his warm cheek against Tom’s jaw, Chris hoped that his declaration didn’t sound too gushy or emotional. Tenderly cupping his face, Chris pulled back to see a small frown across Tom’s face.

“Chris…” Tom began, biting his lip. “I only wanted to show you that you can have happiness. I’m sorry if I’ve let you get to attached. I shouldn’t have, it was wrong of me to let it go this far-”

Chris shook his head, Tom couldn’t push him away, not when he cared so deeply for him.

“But you have shown me I can have happiness! Despite what you said, I’ve learnt that it’s not just the sea that makes me happy, it’s having someone to share it with. You’re the only person I’ve ever met that can truly feel the sea running through their bones, you understand it-”

“And that’s why I can’t be with you Christopher. It’s not because I don’t care deeply for you, it’s because I care too much. I should have told you sooner, Christopher, but I couldn’t bear it. A selkie can only spent so much time on dry land with a human, before they have to return to the sea. Between every meeting of a human, a selkie must wait seven years before they can meet again.”

Tom tried to grab his hands, to comfort him, but Chris pulled away. “When were you planning on leaving?”

The selkie bowed his head regretfully. “Tonight. It has already been far too long.”

“Can’t you just choose to stay a bit longer?”

“My skin is constantly urging me to put it back on and return to the water. This pull is something I cannot help, Christopher.”

Chris sighed deeply, the shattering of his heart making his chest ache and bleed.

“One more night?”

Tom mirrored his sigh. “Okay, Christopher. One more night.”

~

Just like the tide of the ocean drew close and then pulled far away, Tom was both incredibly close and then impossibly distant. The end was approaching; the sea would drift out to claim Tom once and for all, and when the tide was dragged back, Tom too would be gone. All through the night and well into the morning they said very little, both content to listen to the steady beats of one another’s hearts, Tom always watching him calmly through heavy lidded eyes, his attention on the small rises and falls of his chest as he continued to breathe.

It sounded ridiculous, and horribly soppy, but Chris wasn’t sure if he’d ever breathe again once Tom was gone for good. In such a small space of time, Tom had improved his life so much; he had shown him that he could have happiness by the sea. But he always knew - as his gaze followed the long lines of Tom’s body as he shifted to a sitting position - that he could never be happy now without Tom by his side.

Voice raspy from sleep, Tom told him he was going to rest on the beach for a little while before he left. And as Chris watched him curl up on the sand, sleeping soundly, he knew that leaving would be difficult for Tom as well. The selkie had said himself that the need to return to the sea was something he could not help. He also said that he wouldn’t be able to see Chris again for years, and Chris wondered guiltily whether that meant he would be unable to return to the beach, for seeing Chris, and seeing the lonely bay had become one in the same.

 _He’ll be losing not one, but two homes._ Chris thought with a heavy sigh as he stared out across the beach, Tom’s sleeping form becoming a part of the sand as he spent his last few hours on dry land. All Chris had to comfort himself with was the fact that at least they had hours and not minutes left together; Tom was a heavy sleeper and it would be some time before he awoke.

Chris tore his gaze away from the beach and retreated back into the house. Slumped on the edge of the bed, Chris held his head in his hands. What kind of sick joke was it to let him get so close to happiness, only to tear it away again after far too little time?

 _This is all your fault._ Chris frowned at the selkie skin draped over the end of the bed. _If it wasn’t for you, Tom wouldn’t have to go home._

Chris froze. Sitting up straighter, Chris grabbed the skin, holding the heavy weight of it in his trembling hands. If Tom thought he had lost his skin, then he wouldn’t be able to return home. The skin couldn’t possibly call him back if he thought it was gone for good.

Lifting up one of the old and crumbling floorboards in the bedroom, Chris stashed the skin away, and went through the house quickly, pulling out draws and emptying them as he went. He knocked over the lamps, toppled the furniture, and grabbed as many valuable items as he could, burying them shallowly in the sand behind the beach house.

And when the house looked sufficiently destroyed, Chris curled up next to Tom in the sand, ready to sleep all his problems away.

~

Chris was woken by urgent hands grasping and shaking him away from the land of dreams. As his eyes flickered open, the harsh afternoon sun directly overhead burnt into his sleepy gaze. Tom’s hand tightened around his arm like a vice, his brow knit low in worry.

“It’s gone, Christopher! It’s all gone!”

It was strange the way memories suddenly returned upon waking. For a brief moment, Chris had forgotten about the fake robbery he’d devised; he’d forgotten that he could’ve lost Tom. But as he took in the panicked expression marring the selkies face, it all came crashing back, and Chris was no longer sure if he’d made the right decision after all.

“They took my skin Chris, they took it!” Fear and loss made Tom eyes well up. Chris couldn’t bear the thought that it was him who had caused the hurt on Tom’s face, but he had no other choice. He couldn’t lose Tom.

“Took what? What are you talking about?” the lie felt bitter in Chris’ mouth and his voice trembled with fear of the approaching unknown.

Tom collapsed against him, burrowing his face into Chris’ neck. “We’ve been robbed.” As his tears became more intense, his back shook in anguish. All Chris could do was hold him and hope that his terrible crime had been for the best.

~

The sea was always calling him. It was a draw he could not resist. He had tried to separate himself from the ocean before; tried to live an ordinary existence, but the deep waters never stopped calling him back. The isolation only made him hurt.

It seemed, Tom too, could not be cut off from the ocean. The sea was his home and knowing he could not return home destroyed him. For two weeks he barely moved. He barely ate. The bright light of his soul had been extinguished by the loss of his skin, and any vitality he had had been turned to dust, as the loss of his home destroyed him from the inside out.

He knew what he needed to do, and as much as it hurt, it was necessary. Returning to the water was not a desire, but a biological need for Tom; and although he didn’t think he could live without him, he also knew he couldn’t bear to see him this way. Tom being forced to stay was a torture, not a victory.

Selkie skin in his hands, Chris looked at Tom as he lounged across the sofa with his back turned. If he didn’t get his skin back, then Chris was almost certain that the sofa would be his final resting place. He used to lie across the sand, gazing out into the ocean as he mourned his home. Now he couldn’t even bear to step outside. If he couldn’t return to the sea, then he didn’t even want to acknowledge its existence.

“Tom?”

The selkie hummed low in response, but otherwise made no other reply.

“Tom, I’m really sorry.”

Tom’s voice was rough from disuse. “You have nothing to apologise for Christopher. It’s not your fault.”

Chris sighed. “But it is. Can you please just turn around?”

With a groan of irritation, maybe pain, Tom twisted his body sluggishly into a sitting position, before widening his eyes in shock.

“Is that my skin?” Tom asked, breathless.

Chris nodded weakly.

Even as Tom jumped up into a hug and held the skin close, the guilt still didn’t dissipate.

When Tom pulled away, holding the skin close to his face in reverence, Chris bowed his head in regret. “There was no robbery Tom. I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, so I hid your skin. I honestly thought that without it you wouldn’t be called back, I never meant to hurt you Tom”

“Oh Christopher.” Tom sighed with a small smile. “You’re not the first to do this to a selkie and you certainly won’t be the last. I’m not angry. I of all people know the sea is a difficult place, and that it forces us to make undesirable decisions.” Tom bit his lip and smiled. “I’m just so happy to finally have my skin back.”

Chris shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. “I guess this is goodbye then.” He sighed, feeling himself deflate. “I just wish there was some way for me to go with you.”

Several moments of silence passed as they stared at each other intently.

“Do you really mean that?” Tom asked finally.

Chris bobbed his head quickly. “More than anything.”

“It’s not a decision to be taken lightly.”

“And I don’t. I want to be with you forever Tom; that is, if you’ll take me.”

Tom chewed his lip in thought.

“Okay.” He whispered.

~

Standing hand in hand on the beach, Chris looked out at the great expanse of the ocean, the frigid air causing goosebumps to break out across his bare skin.

“How does this work?” Chris asked as they strolled along the cold beach, only stopping when the waves splashed at their feet.

Tom squeezed his hand and smiled. “All you have to do it give yourself to the sea. She’ll know what you want.”

Letting out a deep breath, they walked silently until the strong currents of the ocean lapped at their heads, Tom's hand held tight in his own. Chris had expected to feel fear, but as he allowed himself to fall back and be claimed by the water, all that existed within him was an unmoveable calm, and a sense of peace knowing he would get to spend the rest of his life as another soul of the sea with Tom. 

 

  


End file.
